Mahesh Steps Out
by SuperKateB
Summary: Bug gets dragged to the mall against his will. BugNigel.


**"Mahesh Steps Out"  
A Crossing Jordan Fanfiction  
In the "Strange Bedfellows" Continuity  
Written by Kate "SuperKate" Butler**

**12:52 p.m.  
Mall Lobby**

Bug frowned as the sliding glass doors whispered shut behind him, his brow furrowing and lips pursed tightly together.

"I hate malls."

The city of Boston's premiere indoor shopping center, shining and clean with its well-waxed tile floors, polished chrome railings, and glimmering neon signs, spread in front of and above two of America's finest medical experts, a capitalist's private Eden before their very eyes. Dozens of strangers milled about on the first floor while a variable sea of others rode glass-doored elevators or super-silent escalators from floor to floor, bogged down with the weight of bags and boxes.

Nigel smirked as he shed his gloves and slung his coat over his shoulder,allowing himself a deep breath through his nose. "Smell that, pet?" he questioned.  
"That is the scent of the country's economy rising out of the ashes like a post-apocalyptic Phoenix."

Rolling his eyes, Bug dodged out of the way of a large, dark-haired woman with a baby stroller. "If you ask me, it's the stench of impulsive shoppers whittling way their savings on boot-cut jeans and DVD boxed sets." He thrust his hands in his coat pockets. "Let's just get what you need and get out of here,  
okay?"

"Oh, don't be such a ninny, Buggles," his tall companion teased as he started down the wide aisle of shops, absorbing all the sights and sounds like a glorified human sponge. "Consider this experience atonement for the sin of running my strawberry corer through the garbage disposal."

"That was an accident and you know it!" declared Bug defensively, crossing his arms over his chest. A wicked smile spread across Nigel's lips as they came to stop in front of the brightly-colored mall directory. "Maybe if you didn't have three dozen little kitchen utensils that even Wolfgang Puck couldn't identify,  
then - "

Laughing, the lanky man patted him supportively on the shoulder, shaking his head. "Oh, come off it, love, I was only teasing," he reassured his sulking lover. His brown eyes scanned the directory briefly, lips pursing. "The kitchen shop appears to be on the fourth floor. We'll be in and out in no time." He arched an eyebrow. "Unless, of course, you'd rather like to soak in the aroma of frivolous purchases and DVD boxed sets."

Dark eyes lowered as Bug glanced up at him through thick eyelashes. "No, I would not," he replied adamantly. A rough hand grasped Nigel by the elbow. "Let's just get this over with."

**1:27 p.m.  
Pier One Imports**

"I thought - " Nigel stopped mid-sentence, forced to dodge a lovely twenty-something blonde juggling an armload of pea-green votives. He very nearly topple backwards over a stylish, paisley-print ottoman. He sighed and watched her retreat with a rather dirty look. "I thought," he attempted again, "that you wanted to get this 'over with,' pet."

Grunting slightly in response, Bug tipped his head sideways, deep in thought. "I just don't know if this lamp will go in the living room," he sighed, toying with the tassels that edged the lampshade in front of him. He backed up a step. "What do you think, Nigel?"

Nigel glanced up from a nearby metal contraption that was either meant as a wine rack or aid in sexually deviant practices and sighed. "Truthfully, love?"

"No, I want you to lie to me." Bug allowed an exasperated sigh to escape his pursed lips. "What do you think?"

Brown eyes ran from the faux-bronze, dragonfly-shaped base of the lamp, past it's intertwined-vines post, and right to the tasseled, orange-yellow shade. He frowned slightly. "If you put that lamp in your living room," he decided after a short pause, "I will undoubtedly 'accidentally' break it within a week."

Bug glowered up at him. "It's not that bad!" he protested, gesturing widely to the lighting fixture. "It's unique! Probably one-of-a-kind."

"Yes, well, so was Marie Antoinette, and I don't see you considering her as an addition to your living room decor."

Bug threw up his hands. "Fine, fine," he declared, storming his way towards the door. "Let's go get your stupid strawberry corer."

1:32 p.m.  
Second floor, east wing

Bug crossed his arms over his chest and peered up at his lover from beneath a thoroughly wrinkled brow. "I am not going in there."

Sighing, Nigel rolled his eyes. "Yes, you are," he replied, shaking his head.

"And why, exactly, is this?"

He gritted his teeth, his face flushing in slight annoyance. A few shoppers pushed past them, disinterested in the goings on. "Because I went into bloody Pier One with you," he stressed. "That's why."

The grousing Bug flinched briefly before his jaw set tightly. "I offered for you to stay outside," he reminded the other man helpfully.

"Oh, yes. How could I forget? After all, 'You can stay here if you want to sulk about like a spoiled five-year-old who can't go into the toy store' was SUCH a cordial offer."

Two pairs of brown eyes met evenly.

Blanching, Bug backed up a step. "No, Nigel," he pleaded. "Just... No."

Nigel smirked. "Turnabout, love, is fair play."

**1:49 p.m.  
Hot Topic**

Nigel dangled the large, silver-and-black hoop earring in front of his ear, staring at his own reflection in a nearby mirror. The music pounded around them, loud to the point where he nearly had to scream to be heard.

"What do you think, eh, mate?"

Bug smashed himself against the jewelry display case as a large man with more metal dangling from his face than the ME had ever seen in his three-or-  
so decades upon the Earth passed, allowing the stranger - who, incidentally, wore thick, black eyeliner and matching lipstick - a wide berth. "I think we need to leave," he replied uncomfortably, his nervous tone earning the sympathetic glance of the nearest clerk. "I think we need to get your strawberry corer, or,  
uhm, something else."

The clerk shook her head of bright blue hair and leaned conspiratorially over the counter towards Nigel. "He doesn't get out much, does he?" she questioned with a nod towards the nervous Bug. Said nervous Bug sent her an annoyed glance, and Nigel laughed. "You could do better, you know."

"I resent that!" Bug snapped, his hands on his hips. "I graduated top of my class at Oxford University."

"And I'm an undergrad at MIT." The young woman accepted the earring back from Nigel and smiled charmingly up at him. "Want to look at anything else?" she asked pleasantly.

Bug wrinkled his nose at her before throwing himself back into the case to allow a girl in a ridiculously short skirt room to move past.

"No, no, but thank you, love," replied Nigel cheerily, patting her gently on the hand. "I think it's time I left, less my mate here wet himself in abject fright."

"Oh, shut up," his sulking lover grumbled irritably, squeezing through the racks of black-and-red plaid garments, t-shirts riddled with innuendo, and a few of the strangest instances of Hello Kitty paraphernalia he had ever seen. "I came in here and looked completely out of place in my dress slacks and waist-coat, thank you very much. Happy now?"

They passed a particularly interesting display of clothing and Nigel paused slightly, a devious smirk crossing his thin lips. "I'd be far happier, pet, if you would model a pair of these for me."

Bug shoved the pair of skin-tight leather pants back into his lover's arms before storming out of the store, leaving Nigel to laugh after him.

**2:17 p.m.  
Perry Ellis**

"Buggles," whined a familiar voice, pitch high and desperate, from behind the dressing room door, "this is ridiculous. Don't make me do this."

Bug smiled as he set down a salmon-colored tie and picked up a modestly striped blue one, admiring the colors in the mirror. "I believe you said it best yourself when you qualified turnabout as 'fair play,'" he reminded the pleading one. "If I have to go into your store of choice, you certainly can come into mine." He set down the striped blue tie and reached for the salmon one a second time. "Just come out."

There was a brief moment of silence, broken by rustling from within the dressing room. "But I look so...stupid!" protested Nigel loudly, drawing the attention of a few other store patrons.

Folding both ties atop the two dress shirts he'd selected earlier, Bug rolled his eyes. "Nigel, you said yourself you could use some more formal clothes. If you can't wear khakis, a dress shirt, and a tie in front of me, who are you going to wear them for?"

"The guests at my funeral?"

The door cracked open once the question had finished, slowly at first, and then more fully. Nigel emerged gradually, as though he was readying himself to walk towards execution. His dark eyes focused on the floor as he fidgeted, toying with the dark purple dress shirt and silver tie they'd chosen.

Bug swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing, and the tall man sighed. "I told you I looked funny," he lamented, shaking his head. "I'll go change and be right - "

A hand landed on his forearm, and a warm smile glimmered from dark lips up at him. "No, you look...good," his companion avowed, rubbing his arm gently. "You should dress like this more often."

Nigel smirked and winked a brown eye. "And allow the novelty of this reaction to wear off, pet? Never."

**2:53 p.m.  
Waldenbooks**

Bug grimaced as he switched which hand held the basket of books he'd selected in the natural history section of the store, the metal handles cutting into his skin as he wandered the labyrinthine aisles. He squeezed past teenagers reading graphic novels and middle-aged men browsing self-help books. "Nigel? Nigel, where are - " He stopped dead in his tracks, blinking.

Glancing up from the long row of book spines, Nigel smiled warmly. "Ah, there you are," he greeted his companion happily, dumping a modest stack of paperbacks into Bug's basket. "I think I'm about ready to check out. Just wanted to look for one more book."

Frowning considerably, Bug watched as Nigel wandered a few shelves further down, following patiently on his heels. "Uhm, Nigel?"

"Yes, pet?"

"What... What are you doing?"

Nigel furrowed his brow, confusion settling into his expression as he glanced around the shop. Finding no oddities present, he frowned. "I'm selecting some light reading for the nights I work graveyard. Why?"

His lover lowered his voice to a whisper, leaning in close. "You're browsing in the Romance section," he hissed. His free hand gestured towards the basket. "These books are all trashy romance pulp."

"A very astute observation, Buggles." Nigel dropped one last book into the basket. "I happen to be a severely closeted fan of extraordinarily contrived plotlines, especially when well-endowed, muscular-chested, dark-haired males are involved."

Bug glanced suspiciously down at the books for a brief moment before sighing. "I should have figured," he replied.

Nigel smirked and sent him a lusty glance, earning a slight smile and exaggerated eye roll in response.

**3:10 p.m.  
Williams & Sonoma**

Nigel reached up above his head and selected a strawberry corer from the massive selection of fruit-related kitchen utensils. "And thus," he declared proudly as he dropped it into the basket of the shopping cart he'd selected when they'd entered the store, "our quest is complete."

Bug attempted to smile, but his brown eyes remained forever on the shopping cart, appropriately suspicious given the circumstances given that the corer - all of five inches long - was the only item in the large cart. "We needed a cart just for that?"

The lanky man leaned heavily on the cart handle as he studied the wall of utensils carefully, seemingly disinterested in his companion. "Well, actually, Buggles, I was thinking - "

"Oh, no."

" - that you really could use a bit of a kitchen upgrade." He pulled an apple corer from the collection of fruit tools and tossed it into the bin of the cart. "I can teach you how to prepare a full five-course meal, complete with Waldorf salad, intricate side dishes, and a rich chocolate dessert that is to die for."

Rubbing the bridge of his nose with a hand, Bug heaved a heavy sigh. "We both know I can't cook, Nigel. And that I'm allergic to chocolate."

"Well, in that case," drawled the one-time Londoner, "I suppose I would need to prepare said delicious meal FOR you, rich dessert and all. Vanilla, instead,  
of course."

Bug smiled at the suggestion, and his stomach gurgled greedily at the mere thought. "Well, if you insist..."

**4:26 p.m.  
Williams & Sonoma**

"Alright, let's go over this purchase." The clerk sighed as he hefted the last bag of kitchen paraphernalia into the now-overflowing cart, watching as his manager - required on site for all large purchases - glanced down at the receipt and began to list off all the items involved. "We have here a sushi set for four; a sake set for four; an apple corer; a mortar and pestle set; an olive oil dispenser with dipping bowls and four kinds of oil; a pepper mill; a deluxe stainless-steel wok; a full set of high-grade knives; a fondue pot and forks; a quiche pan; a crêpe pan; a cocktail shaker and four glasses; a variety of spatulas, tongs, and spoons; Pyrex measuring cups in 1, 2, and 4-cup sizes; and a top-of-the-line Teflon frying pan. Anything missing?"

"Strawberry corer," sighed Bug, leaning heavily against the counter. "You forgot the stupid strawberry corer."

"Oh, right!" The clerk stuffed the strawberry corer into the topmost bag, smiling weakly. Bug had given up on attempting a smile about the time Nigel had loaded the full set of knives into the cart and, not unlike Jordan Cavanaugh on so many of her impetuous disappearances to locales unknown, had refused to look back. Nigel was toying idly with a set of stylish napkin rings as the manager and clerk fiddled with the register.

His interest in the duo of employees, however, returned as soon as the total was read.

"That will be $347.49."

Bug nearly toppled over upon hearing the price, eyes widening to unnatural extremes. "What?" he gaped, glancing first to the manager and then towards his tall companion. "Are you insane? Do you know how much money that is?"

Nigel shrugged nonchalantly. "You get what you pay for, pet," he informed his partner warmly, rubbing his shoulder. "Now, why don't you pay the nice man,  
Buggles, so we can get back to the apartment in time for - "

"Excuse me? EXCUSE ME?" Bug's face was the perfect mask of shock and disbelief as he stared, blank-faced and slack-jawed, at his significantly taller companion. "We came to this mall to get a strawberry corer! A stupid little five-dollar strawberry corer! But, rather than ducking in and ducking out,  
I, since arriving, have had my taste in lamps railroaded, been forced to go into a dark, loud, frightening shop full of heavy-set young men whose faces would set off a metal detector at fifty paces, forced you into dress clothes in hopes you would someday stop wearing ratty t-shirts and jeans into work, became the only thirty-something man in the history of state of Massachusetts to purchase ten romance novels in one afternoon, and now, I am expected to buy more than three HUNDRED dollars worth of kitchen supplies? NOT BLOODY LIKELY, NIGEL!"

Bug's incensed declaration of fiery malcontent echoed off the pots and pans around them and then slowly faded away into nothingness, basking the shop in glorious, comforting, wonderful silence.

Swallowing, Nigel forced a small, sheepish smile. "But, pet, they ARE for your apartment..." he informed him quietly, voice hardly above a whisper.

With a scream of frustration, Bug hurled his wallet at his partner and stormed out of the store, fuming.

**9:57 p.m.  
Nigel Townsend's Apartment**

Bug yawned and snuggled up against the arm of the couch, balled up in a thick blanket as he contently sipped a large, homemade espresso. The entire apartment smelled of delicious, gourmet-quality food and freshly-ground coffee, and - as the candles on the coffee table flickered warmly - Nigel settled down onto the couch at his side, armed with his own beverage.

"Still mad at me, pet?"

Sipping his drink gingerly, Bug sighed and shifted his weight to lean against his lover rather than the upholstery. "I don't want you to lull yourself into thinking that making me dinner will heal all wounds, Nigel," he replied coyly, his head lulling against Nigel's shoulder. "The way to my heart is not always through my stomach, especially not after you drain my pocketbook."

"Mmm-hmm." Nigel's face nuzzled his cheek.

"I mean it."

"I know."

Sighing, Bug set his espresso glass down on the coffee table and raised his eyes, meeting the other man's gaze evenly. "You need to promise me two things," he decided abruptly.

Nigel set down his drink, as well. "Anything, love."

"First: if ever you decide I need more than ten dollars of kitchen supplies again, you will pay for them in full."

Snorting, the thin man smiled. "Agreed."

"And secondly..." He trailed off, and brown eyes clashed silently in the candlelight, holding one another's attention fully. "You will never again force me, willingly or otherwise, into going to the mall with you."

Nigel leaned in close, his voice low and husky as a smirk crossed his thin lips. "You, my dear Buggles, have got yourself a deal."

**Fin.**

Standard Disclaimer: Crossing Jordan and all related characters belong to NBC and Tailwind Productions. I am simply borrowing them with no intent to,  
you know, make money. Friends, perhaps, but not money.

Author's Notes: Completely random and insane, yes, I know. I just cannot imagine these two men shopping together and living to tell the tale. Even if it would be hilarious.

Just for frame of reference, Pier One Imports is a home store, Hot Topic is a punk/gothic clothing and accessory store, Perry Ellis is a man's business-type clothing store (and, incidentally, Jerry O'Connell is one of the brand's models), Waldenbooks is a bookstore, and Williams & Sonoma is a top-of-the-line kitchen chain. Most of them are pretty large, national chains, so if you're American, you have probably heard of at least one or two of them.

Inspired by shopping for a tomato knife with my mother. Oh, the pain... xx

"Strange Bedfellows" is my beautiful homemade continuity in which Bug and Nigel are a couple. Other stories in this grouping include:

"Outside, Looking In"  
"Possible Impossibilities"  
"A Taste of Lime"  
"24/7"  
"The Element of Surprise"  
"Realistic Fiction"  
"The Things We Do For Whirlpool Tubs"  
"It's Fun to Work at a BCPS"

February 26, 2005  
3:34 a.m.


End file.
